Page 77 of The Crimson Princess
His scowl transforms to anger, a stormy rage rippling across his features. “Are you threatening me?”
“How would a lowly young princess threaten an ancient powerful king such as yourself?”
“You will do what is right for Ravengale. Say it or you will stand there until you do.”
As if what is right for Ravengale means I will do what he dictates. I no longer believe that and I doubt he does, either. “I will do what is right for Ravengale.”
He releases me and says, “Play nice with the druid. It’s what’s best for your gales. Or not. It’s been a long time since I enjoyed a good war, and with the blood on your hands I’ll have nothing to fret about, now will I? Bellar will be here at six to escort you to the event tonight.” He waves me away. “Go rest. I need to finish my breakfast.” He sits down.
It’s all I can do not to launch myself at him, but I hold myself in check. I turn and walk away and only when I’m out of his view do I blink to my room where I begin to pace. I don’t know if I reach out to Toren or not. What good does telling him how unreasonable my father is right now? He knows as much. Hetold meas much. If I can’t control my father, I need a way to control the druids.
Which is exactly why my father wants me to whore myself out to Bellar, but do we really think me getting naked with the druid prince lowers his desire for power? I do not. All it does is make him believe he’s closer to it, and the book. But of course, my father knows this. He simply doesn’t fear the druids. He fears Toren. The book, Crya, has ensured he starts a war.
With Toren.
My dress for the Laudation is an emerald floor length gown of luxurious silk. It is as elegant as it is feminine, hugging my curves in all the right places, reminding everyone I’m not the little girl I was when I left for the Earth realm. My brown hair flows around my shoulders, one stunning emerald holding the front away from my face and decorating the back of my head. I hope that I present as a future queen. I cannot be a little girl and earn respect. Of course, Iwill lose every drop I earn when the gales see me with Bellar. Once I’m fully ready, I sit on the bed and do what I have wanted to do all day. I reach for Toren’s mind.
Toren?
He doesn’t answer.
I try again.Toren?
Still no answer.
He’s not here. I can feel the emptiness between us. He’s not in my mind. He’s not in my world. He must be in Bloodstone, and our connection, I assume, can’t reach beyond the same realm. And it feels wrong. What if he’s hurt? Or dead?
Why isn’t he here? Is he not attending the Laudation?
I need to stop. Now. Toren will be in Bloodstone for centuries to come and I will be here. He is not my future. I am not his. I’m just working myself up over the potential of war. That’s all this is. He’s lived a thousand years. He’s fine, but if war erupts there’s no turning back. I yank my dress up to my thigh, and lex a holster to my leg before I slide my blade inside. If a battle is coming, I’m not being caught unarmed. I will be ready.
Letting my dress slide back into place, I head for the door and once I’m in the foyer of the castle, I find my father and Bellar waiting on me, both in their formal royal uniforms. There was a time when my father would not think a druid uniform belonged inside our castle walls. Oh how times have changed.
Bellar’s eyes rake over me with far too much lust for my liking, and when I draw nearer to him and he offers me his arm, I want to offer him my knee. The knee is a universal way to hurt males of all races. Proper knee usage was one of the first things my mother taught me. Fighting my survival instincts, I accept his arm, and soon we’re loaded into a limo, me squished between my father and Bellar, and I do not allow my leg to press to that of the druid prince, despite my father’s scathing look of disapproval. Mikhail sits across from us and his eyes glow with disapproval for Bellar. Why won’t my father listen to his closest friend? But then, perhaps he’d haveto share his fears with Mikhail at that point, and my father would never do such a thing.
Our destination is the arena which is set-up as a gala of sorts for this evening. Among the guests will be the competitors, their families, the council, and select invitation-only guests. The limo pulls to our private entrance and Idris is there waiting, and when he sees me link arms with Bellar, his expression is unchanging, but I can feel his disgust. It’s what all of the gales will feel, and I’m shocked my father really wants this.
We enter the arena and travel in an elevator to the lower level and I don’t miss how Idris crowds Bellar to the point Bellar can’t lay hands on me. At one point Idris glances over his shoulder and offers me a small wink. Proof that me with Bellar is not what our gales, even in the highest of ranks, want to see from me. Somehow, I have to control the narrative my father, and Bellar, seek to create. We step out of the elevator and a rush of awareness flows through me. I can feel Toren’s presence hum through me like a warm breeze in the winter storm of a brewing unrest.
Once we’re inside the arena, there are clusters of standing tables covered in gale green cloths, food stations, and even a stage where the deep raspy voice of a female singer fills the air in a sultry song. Bellar’s hand settles on my lower back, and Toren’s voice is in my head.
If he doesn’t remove his hand I’m going to pull his balls through his ear sockets.
My answer to his warning is to halt and twist out of Bellar’s reach, facing the druid prince. “Look, Bellar, I know what my father and yours, too, want from us. I know whatyouwant.”
“What do I want, princess?”
“Everything. And I get it. Of course, you do, but we are the future of our realms and right now, mine only sees druids as an enemy. If we step wrong, they will see me the same. We need them to follow us, not plot to overthrow us.”
He steps a little closer and lowers his voice. “I admit the idea of us as a couple and the two realms together appeals to me. To thinkof the greatness we could create, the power couple we could be, excites me, but I am not my father. I do not wish to push this on you.”
The words are right. The feeling I get from him when he speaks them is not. “I do not believe you, Bellar. As humans say, talk is cheap. Show me. Mingle with me tonight, but do not treat me as a possession. Do not put your hands on me.”
He holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean to overstep, princess. Your father said you were all in. I thought—”
“You didn’t think I was all in. We talked in the gardens. You know I am not. You want to get me there, show me you are worthy of more than my affection. You need to be worthy of my gales’ affection.” I motion to an empty table. “That one is free. We should grab it while we can.” I start to turn and rotate back to him. “I will fight to the death before I will take a knee. You’d be smart to remember that.”
“I don’t want you to take a knee, princess. I want you to sit next to me.”
